Hi there, so I haven't written any fanfiction for about 4 to 5 years. This is my reintroduction to the world of writing fiction for pleasure, and a nice way to flex my fan fiction muscles. It starts angsty, but it gets light.
There's a reason this is on fanfiction, and not on fictionpress.
A sharp slap echoed down the hallway of the small apartment building.
"You lousy brat!"
Rage contorted the mans face as he continued his tirade.
"Ungrateful! After everything I've done for you!" A small gasp escaped the little girl as she clenched her fists. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" She bit her lip as she cast her eyes upward. She kept a gasp back as she looked up at her father's face. "And you can't even smile! What the hell is wrong with you?" The yelling got progressively louder, and he bent down to grasp her shoulders roughly. "You think you're mother's going to come back for a brat that can't smile?" The girl wished that she could smell alcohol on her father's breath. Just so she could say that he didn't know what he was saying. A small sob escaped her, and he slapped her again, leaving a bright red mark across her pale face. "Smile, dammit!" She turned the corners of her lips up slightly, making him angrier as it didn't reach her eyes. The man shoved her down. She landed on the floor with a soft thud, and wiped her face with the bottom of her dress. "Stay here. I'm leaving." She had no idea if he meant forever.
She brought her knees up to chest as she heard the door slam behind him. She released her lips, and swept her tongue over them to catch the blood. The girl took time to calm herself, showing unusual composure for a girl her age. She stood with shaky legs, and stared around the room. It was bare, save for the twin bed in the corner, and radio on the night stand near it. All that was left were the memories. None good. Not that she could remember, anyways. She left the room, and her house behind her. She smiled slightly, and walked down the driveway. Her tears long gone, she marched down the street onto a new adventure.
The cold air bit at the young girl, in a way that made her feel oddly free. The wind was light, and made the ends of her dress wave slightly, even as she stood still. The moon shown down on her as she made her way, florescent lighting getting scarce as she walked. This is better, she thought. This is freedom. Her tired legs and chilled arms disagreed.